Chapter 46:
A great sense of disquiet settled over Harry's gut. Didn't that mean Tom really did become Voldemort, regardless of his own attempts to stop it? He felt sick. Or did it mean that he had made a difference, which is why someone saw fit to Obliviate the young Dark Lord? To make sure that history still happened the way it should?
Yet, Tom had ensured that his memory and mind couldn't be tampered with…after all, when Harry had tried so long ago it had been a total failure. But what if Tom obliviated himself? Then it would work….why would Tom do that?
Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Oh god, maybe he wasn't! Hermione had always said that Tom might not appreciate everything that came with being forced to feel.
"I told you that you didn't want to know," Tom said, in a casual tone of voice. He looked up to see the other watching closely, the intensity of the gaze belying his nonchalant manner.
"Well," he shrugged, for an illusion of confidence. "It's just a theory anyhow. We both know that you're not always right, however much you may try to insinuate otherwise."
Tom smiled, briefly, mirthlessly.
"I'm not often wrong, either," he countered softly. Harry clenched his jaw, glancing away.
"Often isn't always," he replied tightly.
"No," Tom agreed. "It's not."
"Screw fate," Harry declared. "She's a spoilt bitch anyway."
The smile turned just a tiny bit more genuine. There was an uncomfortable pause, which they both endeavoured to sweep away before the silence became too clogging.
"Onto Occlumency," Tom began, even as Harry simultaneously asked :
"Can I open it?" Tom frowned slightly. "The remembrall," he clarified. "I mean, if we know about it before hand, surely we can sway events into our favour?"
"No," Tom said.
"What do you mean no?" Harry struggled to modulate his tone, knowing that he would only lose his standing in this argument if he started shouting like a child in the fits of a temper tantrum.
"I mean no, you're not going to interfere with it," Tom stared at him with dark eyes. "Awful things happen to those who meddle with time, Harry."
"Doesn't stop you," he retorted.
"Well," Tom smiled, coldly. "You're not me…but if you're so bothered, why don't you ask Draco to steal it for you? You two are good friends now, right?"
Harry's blood chilled, ice twisting in his stomach like snowy maggots.
"Draco? Draco Malfoy? Since when have I been good friends with the ferret?" he replied, trying to bluff it, laughing as if the very idea was ridiculous. Tom's smirk broadened.
"Harry," he began. "I grow up to work with - as you call it - bloody backstabbing death eaters…do you really think I'm not aware of everything that goes on around me? Let alone in my own circle? He enquired delicately.
Harry's laughter faded, though he kept his features expressionless.
"You've got something of a track record for sabotage," Tom continued. "Did you honestly believe I don't pay your goings on particular attention?"
Any smile had vanished from the other's face now, as he watched him carefully. Harry couldn't think of what he may be looking for, though he was filled with the awful suspicion that he was being tested for something. After a moment of silence, he realised that those questions probably hadn't been rhetorical - he was actually expected to respond.
"I'd have thought you'd be annoyed if you thought Malfoy and I to be in cahoots against you," he replied carefully, raising his brows.
"Worried over the fate of your pet ferret?" Tom questioned coolly in return. Harry frowned slightly.
"You know, Draco was only doing what a good friend should do. Unlike you, I may add…so really, you have no right to do anything, considering you're the bastard who erased my memory to begin with, which created the whole problem of why I would need the remembrall in the first place," Harry said, glaring. "I still haven't forgiven you for that, by the way."
"Yes, I am aware of that," the Slytherin Heir replied, sounding a tad bored now. "Why do you think he is still alive?" Tom paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "You really are dreadfully boring when you are sulking."
Harry resisted the urge to gape.
"I'm sure Malfoy will find your apparent desire for my company a very reassuring reason for his continued existence," he deadpanned, unable to help himself. "Considering how you have more mood swings than a teenage girl."
Tom scowled at him, menacingly, for the comparison, before his expression cleared.
"Perhaps you should be extra nice to me then," he suggested. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I'm always nice to you," he replied, though he felt a flitter of unease at the words.
"Harry, you're a sabotaging, disrespectful twit. Most people wonder why I put up with you."
"It's because I'm awesome," he said wisely. Tom arched his brows.
"Keep telling yourself that," he drawled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"Oh I will keep telling myself, honesty and all that. You're just insanely jealous because you could never hope to compare."
"No, I doubt I could," Tom smirked. "I'd never fall that low."
"Ouch," Harry winced mockingly. "That cuts deep Riddle, right here." He placed a hand on his heart. "Seriously, I may never recover from the sheer wittiness of your barbs."
"Don't worry, most people don't."
"Wow, that's amazing…I think I genuinely saw your head swell a bit there…"
"Shut up Harry."
It was only much later, as he lay in bed, his roommates fast asleep in their slumbers beside him, that Harry noticed how Tom had successfully diverted the conversation away from the remembrall.
A/N: Hi, again! It's me. Thank you so much for the reviews! I love re-reading them whenever I'm feeling down, or insecure about this story (happens frequently, though I've recently had a large burst wherein I considered deleting the entire story). They are much appreciated. Well, I hope you enjoy the update. Is the plot moving too quickly all of a sudden? Or does it seem okay, by the way? Ooh, that rhymed. Damn is should probably sleep…anyhow. Hope you liked it! Adios! - The Fictionist.